


A Peaceful Morning in the Sanctum

by KC_R



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Charlie is a precious puddle, Gen, Monologue, Soul Master doesn’t only hate poor people, Soul master is not a good person, Unreliable Narrator, but he thinks he’s doing good, he also hates rich people, he hates everyone but his fellow scholars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KC_R/pseuds/KC_R
Summary: The Soul Master gives a monologue to an audience of one (1)
Relationships: Soul Master | Soul Tyrant & Mistake
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	A Peaceful Morning in the Sanctum

**Author's Note:**

> Haven’t finished the next chapter of Shenanigans so I finished this up instead. Enjoy

The rainfall in the Capital was what he woke up to every day. Barely was there any other sounds. Sometimes the distant explosion of a bellfly, the screech of a guard, the cry of a noblebug, but even those had slowed down to the point that they were rare occurrences. The only constant was the rain. Never ending and eternal, just like him.

He awoke in his private chambers at the very peak of his Soul Sanctum. He was the Soul Master, the first and last, the eternal scholar. He had long since forgotten his own name, his title was all he had left of the time before his greatness. He stepped out of bed, and did his daily stretches (no amount of soul magic could keep him in perfect shape, and he certainly didn’t want to get cramped up if the King decided to visit him again to try and shut him down again). 

His joints crackled and popped. He attempted to reach his feet, but the fact that he couldn’t even see them deterred him. Perhaps he had gained a bit of weight in his time as the Soul Master (despite the fact that he hadn’t eaten in several years. Years? That didn’t sound quite right). He had been so slim back then, he even had the eyes of Lurien upon him. Alas, Lurien was a traitorous bastard who had caused the end of his government funding. He would never receive the adoration that the Soul Master knew he desired from him.

There was a thump against his door. Ah, he must be needed with something. He put on his cape (he got it tailored a few years ago. None of the capes his minions retrieved quite fit). Those days were long gone, it was too dangerous for his minions to leave the Sanctum. When Troul had gone missing, he had sent his top Casters to look for him, but they could never find him. After that, he locked his entire palace down. No one in or out. Ever again.

With one last stretch of his legs, he walked over to his door and pulled it open. Ah, it was Charlie, his most trusted companion and friend. Those outside the palace called bugs like Charlie “mistakes”, and “follies”, but those were all incorrect titles. His name was Charlie! He was a well-respected Scholar! He had never made a mistake in his life!

Charlie gargled at him, a result of no longer having vocal chords, or any organs for that matter.

“Ah, hello Charlie. I assume you’ve come for your daily medicine?” He asked. The blob before him nodded it’s head to the best of its ability. The Soul Master returned to his room for a moment, grabbing the bottle with Charlie’s name on it. “Here you are, my friend, your antidepressants.” 

He pulled off the cap and poured a small amount of the medicine onto Charlie. It quickly absorbed into his weak membrane. Charlie has always suffered from depression, but it was an uphill battle! He was getting better with every passing day! He no longer gargled about how much he wanted to be put out of his “endless agony”, which was certainly an improvement.

(Though that may be because he is no longer capable of speech.)

“How is the rest of the Sanctum doing on this fine morning?” He asked. 

Henry gargled on his soul, waving his arms frantically.

“That’s good to hear, very good.” The Soul Master said, picking up Charlie and quickly depositing the bottle back on the shelf where it belonged. Charlie practically melted in his arms, quite literally. He pushed some soul into Charlie’s body to strengthen his membrane and to keep him from losing any parts of himself.

Charlie gurgled happily as the Soul Master did his rounds. He had always remembered the Capital to be quite blue, but in recent years it had taken on quite the orange hue. It made him feel warm, like the autumn leaves that once fell upon the surface. He pondered if the surface existed anymore. Surely, nothing existed besides him, he was eternal, he lasted forever, everything else besides him and his city had long since faded out of existence.

The Sanctum was empty of anything but his esteemed students, scholars, and spell twisters. He said his greetings to each and every one of them. It was very important to keep up morale in times of quarantine. Yes! That’s what he was doing, he had almost forgotten that he was using his soul research to combat the infection. They were very lucky that no one in the Sanctum had gotten infected, it would have spread like a wildfire if someone had been.

(He has also become quite good at ignoring the orange glow in everyone’s eyes, as well as the losses of memory, and the feral outbursts that occasionally took them over.)

He checked the pit where they dumped all of the drained husks. It was a sad thing, that so many had to die for them or reach their goal, but it did not matter, they were poor and contributed nothing to society anyways.

(Lurien, that bastard, had said that his opinion on peasants was another reason that he did not like him. He was sure Lurien was lying, he just wanted an excuse to look at him and his (previously) lean, sexy body.)

He teleported to the highest balcony of the Soul Sanctum, placing Charlie down besides him.

“Look at them, Charlie. The nobles, the peasants, the City Guards. Fools, all of them.” 

Charlie slithered to the edge of the balcony and peaked down at the city below. 

“Weak, insignificant! Look at them with their orange eyes, long since vanquished by the infection. To think that they believed they could stop me! I have put years upon years on this topic of study, I have poured my blood, sweat, tears, and very soul into this project. Lurien was simply jealous. Jealous that he lacked my brains, my bod, my brawn! The King only stopped me because he was blinded by his lust for the Watcher. I know it for a fact that he saw the worth in my studies, in my experiments! In my truth! I’m very sure that, any day now, he will return to us and give us our government funding back, and then we will not have to rely on the brainless nobles for support any longer. And those bastard nobles! They expect my work to be an instant cure! They send letters after letters asking if I’ve completed my life’s goal yet despite them not doing anything to improve the situation. Pick up a book, gods dammit! Learning how plagues spread is simple! I learned how they worked in my first year learning under Monomon! And then even she couldn’t keep up with my colossal mind, she could not compare to my genius! It’s so fucking simple! How do they not understand that this isn’t an instantaneous thing? But the nobles matter not, they have long since stopped sending us fat checks in the mail, they too have given up on us, despite our truth being so clear! Charlie, my dearest friend, I do believe I am on the verge of creating the cure! I’ll fix this City of Bastards and then they’ll bow down to me and praise me for my genius! They will take down the warrant for my arrest! They will shower me in the love and praise that they know I deserve! And you, my friend, when I step upon the podium to give my speech, you will be there beside me! I promised you that when you first joined, and I will keep my promise to the last of my days! Greatness awaits us, my dearest friend, and it is almost in our grasps!”

Charlie gargled something, sorrowful this time.

“Worry not, I guarantee that your family is proud of you. You are saving thousands of lives, if not millions! They are looking upon you now with pride! All of our ancestors will look up to us! And soon the King, and the Watcher, and the Teacher, and even the Beast Queen of Deepnest will shower us in their thanks and gratitude! We will be granted wealth unimaginable! And once we destroy the infection, I will begin searching for a cure to your depression! And then you and I can retire, with a legacy and a fortune under our belts!” 

Charlie gurgled happily, crawling over to the Soul Master, who promptly picked him up, gently rubbing his head. He pressed a gentle kiss of comfort upon the top of Charlie’s head.

“I promise you, my friend. We are so close, so damn close. The deaths will have been worth it, and no one will ever dare to hurt any of you ever again.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is also a sort of homage to “A Peaceful Night in the Spire” because I love that fic a lot and it’s hella good


End file.
